Dialect
by liquid-thought
Summary: They're soldiers, that much they have in common. Maybe being left on his ancestor's planet seemingly alone with a member of the enemy should look like a death sentence, but there's a freedom in the way they can understand and know each other without words.


The syllables are too slow, the sounds archaic and as much as he tries, Dean can't understand. But there's something about the way this blue-eyed stranger speaks, his voice gruff. Dean knows this man likely can't understand him either, but he responds anyway. He tells his strange friend about Sam, about his mother and father, the niece that was born six months ago. In their shared lack of understanding he expresses his fears about never meeting her, about dying on this planet they've been marooned on together.

There's the feeling that the alien is sharing with him, as well. Maybe he's telling Dean the same kind of stories.

It's night when it happens, their first time. They've been holed up in an abandoned bunker for weeks, finally finding a place with a mostly whole roof and stable floors. They haven't seen anyone else in months. Most of their forces have retreated. Maybe the war's over. Maybe Earth, already deserted before all this shit began, has been left behind by both armies, discarded and the dead left to rot. The living, too.

But regardless, it's night when it happens. Dean learned the alien's name within the first two hours after waking up with too-blue eyes staring down at him. It's definitely an Enochian name. _Castiel_, he'd said.

Dean calls him Cas.

Something about their physiology makes it simple, despite a lack of proper supplies. Dean would think it's weird if he hadn't slept with a woman that had actual wings, so he doesn't bother with the odd question of _why're you wet?_ Cas wouldn't understand anyway.

They kiss and it's open, honest and real. Even without understanding a word of what they've said to one another over the past three months, Dean knows this man. A rudimentary sign language has helped them for the most part, Dean can tell Cas not to eat the black berries on the bushes, they're poison. He can let the alien know to steer clear of plants with oddly shaped and numbered leaves. In the process of getting poison oak himself, of course.

Cas is desperate, pulling him into every thrust by the ass. Dean isn't much better off, holding Cas crushingly close. A lot of his friends in the corps had taken advantage of deep space postings by grabbing as much tail (some of it literal) that they could, but Dean had been kinda tame. That's why it surprises him when Cas starts making a sound almost like chirping, just a gentle high pitched fluttering keen under his moans.

It happens when he starts to clench, body going rigid and pulling Dean in greedily. The sound doesn't stop, it goes deeper into Cas' throat and turns into something almost like a purr, his entire chest vibrating against Dean's. One hand flies up to Dean's left shoulder, clutching painfully tight.

Dean looks at Cas' face, knowing what's happening and wanting to see the look as he comes. The blue in the other man's eyes lightens and illuminates. A second later he's coming with his head thrown back and his mouth open. He makes a sound like he's dying, muscles convulsing and with a sight like that Dean can't blame himself for finishing so quickly after. He's sure he says something, maybe something stupid, maybe just idle cussing and a repeated chant of _Cas, Cas, yes, Cas_ over and over. In any case, it doesn't matter.

Everything slips around them with muted tones, birds in trees just outside sounding miles away. Dean thinks he can see the sky lightening, the sunrise quickly approaching. When Cas opens his eyes again they aren't glowing and Dean kind of wishes they spoke the same language so he could ask what that was about.

He kisses Cas' jaw, their mouths meeting after a moment. It's slower than before, but just as truthful. The military taught him about subtlety and non-verbal communication. Maybe that's part of why he's able to live with Cas, to bond with him, but it's more than that as well.

When they pull apart an eager smile has lifted the other man's features and Dean can imagine he knows the meaning of the words spoken to him. Every syllable spills out slowly and brokenly, a little slurred with fatigue.

Dean laughs and kisses Cas again, murmuring against his lips. "Love you, too."


End file.
